


Kismet

by charivari



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One)
Genre: Alcohol, Flirting, Gift Giving, M/M, PostWar, Roller is Tarn so possibly AU, Secret Identity, prewar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-08
Updated: 2015-08-08
Packaged: 2018-04-13 14:25:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4525401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charivari/pseuds/charivari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roller visits Ratchet's free clinic and meets Pharma. Roller-is-Tarn AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kismet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Insecuriosity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Insecuriosity/gifts).



> A gift for Insec, because you are my headcanon friend and you helped inspire this with all our talk about Roller being Tarn <3

Roller didn't trust Shockwave.

More specifically he didn't trust his intentions with Pax.

But trying to persuade Pax of this fact had proven difficult. Roller's concern had been brushed off more than once, Pax assuring him that Shockwave was trustworthy. Roller didn't believe that, especially after digging into the senator's affairs. But since Pax wouldn't listen to him, he had no choice but to go to Ratchet. Pax was more likely to listen to the two of them. Especially Ratchet.

Roller had anticipated to find the medic at the free clinic he ran in Rodion. But when he arrived, he only found his colleague. He and Roller had never been officially introduced, though Ratchet had referred to him on occasion.

Pharma.

The jet had a T-cog propped up with a caliper while he was making some sort of laser incision. As soon as he noticed Roller, he reacted with a look of intense annoyance.

"Patients are supposed to remain seated in the waiting room. There is a sign, I know some of you bots lack literacy mods, but it's common courtesy to wait until you're called. That's why it's called a waiting room."

"I'm not a patient," Roller told him, "I'm Roller. Ratchet..."

"Roller?" Pharma cut in, anger subsiding, "Oh yes. I think Ratchet mentioned you."

His optics swept over Roller in a rather blatant way.

"My, you are big."

"Uh, thank you," Roller said a mite self-consciously.

Comments about his size didn't normally phaze him. But Pharma's tone threw him, along with his intense gaze. Fliers weren't normally his type. But the jet was attractive, there was no doubt about that.

"Are you here for a checkup?" Pharma inquired, "Granted you can probably afford treatment at a ordinary clinic. But since you're a friend of a friend, I can overlook the fact you're not a buymech or junkie."

"I was actually here to see Ratchet," Roller explained.

Pharma seemed a little put out by his refusal. He turned away with a small huff and resumed work on the T-cog.

"Well as you can see, he's not in," he told Roller, "He left with his other police friend."

"Pax?"

"That's the one," Pharma said dismissively, "I don't know how long they'll be. You're welcome to take a seat in the waiting room."

Roller didn't answer. He was wondering what Pax and Ratchet were doing. Pax hadn't announced any plans with the medic before he left the station.

The whole situation struck Roller as troubling.

But there was not much he could do until Ratchet returned. He focused on Pharma and the T-cog.

"What are you doing, if you don't mind me asking."

"What this?" Pharma turned to him, "This is a T-cog I harvested from patient. I intend to sell it on the black market."

He smirked at Roller's shocked expression,

"Joke," he clarified, much to his relief, "The patient approved organ donation prior to their death. The T-cog was extracted post-mortem. Rest assured, I'm only using it for study."

"Study?"

"T-cog transplant," Pharma elaborated, "Research is rather limited. Transplanting a vital organ into another mecha is considered somewhat taboo. But if the donor no longer requires it, I don't see any issue with morality, can you?"

"No I suppose I can't," Roller answered honestly.

Pharma seemed pleased with this response.

"Ratchet tells me you're a fine surgeon," Roller added.

"Oh?" Pharma said bemusedly, "And what else has he told you about me?"

"Only good things."

Pharma let out a dry laugh,

"You're either lying or Ratchet adores me more than he lets on."

"No lie," Roller assured him.

Ratchet had only mentioned Pharma in a few instances. But his tone had always been positive.

"How long have you known Ratchet?" he asked.

"Since medical school," Pharma answered, "Though we're not the same age. Let's make that perfectly clear. I mean look at me. The only reason we almost graduated during the same year was because I excelled at learning."

He seemed rather smug about that. Roller supposed he couldn't blame him.

"How long have you worked at the clinic?"

Pharma turned to him with a steady inquiring look,

"Is this is an interrogation officer?"

The purr in his voice didn't indicate much offense. But it unsettled Roller all the same.

"No doctor, it's just a friendly chat."

"Hmm," Pharma returned to his T-cog, "I usually expect mecha to buy me a drink before they bombard me with questions."

Roller was struck dumb for a second. Was the jet flirting or simply making a joke? Roller wasn't good at reading romantic signals. He decided to be upfront.

"You want me to ask you out?"

Pharma set the T-cog carefully down on his workbench.

"It depends," he approached Roller with a smirk, "My tastes are a little more refined than..."

He reached him and leaned up on his pedes,

"Kremzeek."

Roller's engine gave a low rev. Ratchet must have mentioned his quirk to Pharma. He had no other way of knowing since Roller wasn't currently sucking down a carton.

"What's wrong with Kremzeek?" he challenged lowly.

"Nothing," Pharma matched his tone, "Apart from it's revolting taste and garish packaging."

"What would you prefer to drink?"

"Quadruple distilled engex, preferably from Rivets Field or Textrahex, 1st cycle."

"Pricey."

Pharma smiled,

"I'm worth it," the intimacy of the response provoked another rev.

Roller's fans kicked in noisily and he cursed himself. Buymechs threw themselves at him all the time trying to avoid arrest. Roller always refused their advances without getting flustered.

But not even the most high class prostibots had the air of sophistication Pharma did. Roller was out of his depth. He couldn't even think of a witty retort.

"Ahem," a cleared vocaliser startled them both.

Ratchet was leaning in the doorway,

"I'm not interrupting anything am I?"

"Not at all," Pharma said airily.

He gracefully pulled away from Roller and returned to his workbench.

"I was just keeping your cop friend company until you got back."

"Uh huh," Ratchet's tone was dry but he shot Roller a smile, "Hey Roller, what brings you down to the clinic. Apart from falling prey to Pharma?"

Roller heard Pharma huff in the background. He pushed aside his embarrassment, concentrating on the true reason for his visit. 

"I want to talk about Senator Shockwave."

Ratchet's smile subsided,

"Let's go to my office."

Roller spared a glance at Pharma as they went. Shockwave was a danger to his friend. But Pharma was a danger to the spark.

**

"I bought you something," Tarn informed Pharma.

Pharma glared suspiciously in response. It was only when Tarn showed him the bottle of engex that his expression fluctuated with surprise.

"Quadruple distilled engex," Tarn said, "Rivets Field, 1st cycle, 005."

He held the bottle out to Pharma. Instead of accepting it, Pharma crossed his arms,

"What is this, a butter up?" he demanded, "Are you about to ask for more T-cogs. Tarn, I thought I've been very clear, I can't..."

"Doctor, you misunderstand," Tarn cut in smoothy, "There is no quota increase at this present time."

"Then why the engex?" Pharma said distrustfully.

"A gift for all your hard work."

The answer startled Pharma. He stared at the bottle uncertainly. Tarn watched, wondering if Pharma had the willpower to refuse it. He smiled behind his mask when Pharma finally accepted it.

"How did you know?" he said.

"Educated guess," Tarn replied, "You strike me as someone with refined tastes Pharma."

Pharma frowned.

"Will that be all?" he said stiffly.

"Not quite. Considering I came all this way to give you such a thoughtful gift, I expect you to offer me a glass."

Pharma's lip curled in a sneer,

"Oh so that's your angle is it? Bring me an excellent vintage of engex so I'm forced to sit down and share it with you."

Tarn closed the gap between them, ignoring Pharma's growl when he cupped the medic's face,

"Don't look so put out dear Doctor," he crooned, "After all, it's not like I bought you Kremzeek."  



End file.
